Secrets
by UnpublishedWriter
Summary: After an accident at a mecha construction base, Sergeant Geary learns Berg Katse's biggest secret.
1. Chapter 1

**Secrets**

Chapter One

One thing about working directly under Lord Katse: you went places. In the last few months, Sergeant Geary had been to more Galactor facilities than she had in the previous four years. Most of the visits were routine inspection tours, which meant people were behaving themselves at least for a few weeks before and after the visit. There were also a few surprise inspections (literally chosen by tossing a dart at a map). On occasion, when time allowed, she even went sightseeing off duty.

Today, they were at a mecha construction facility in Spain. The primary mecha project was near completion.

Galactor mecha ranged from gigantic zoomorphic machines to reasonably-sized camouflaged vehicles (zoomorphic and otherwise). Geary had operated a few of the smaller vehicles, and ridden in others, but she had never even seen one of the giants until today.

The construction bay was huge, the floor area easily equaling that of an Ameris football field, and at least thirty stories high. Walkways and doorways climbed the walls; gantries, girders and beams laced the gigantic room, supporting cranes, lifts, and other necessary equipment, or else ready to be moved to divide the area for other mecha.

As she looked up (and up, and up) at the bipedal mecha encased in construction scaffolding, Geary again wondered what purpose the giant monsters served. They were intimidating, and could take a considerable beating, but _people_ were ultimately needed to carry out the details. Given Galactor's successes to date, they seemed excessive.

Armed conquest creates resistance groups. Few question the legitimacy of such groups' grievances, and many support them. Economic and political conquest creates disgruntled losers who sound like extremists. When those people blow things up, only extremists applaud.

On the other hand, Galactor had not succeeded through luck. Leader X and Lord Katse had to plan ahead and anticipate the unexpected.

Lord Katse, Geary, the project manager, and two technicians boarded the cable car for the tour. It crawled up the cable slowly, to give the visitors a good view of the mecha.

It took all her discipline not to smile. Her lord just barely concealed his excitement over this mecha. The project manager and the two technicians didn't notice. She recognized the posture, the quivering (more sensed than seen), the way he thrust his head forward. Under the mask, she knew his eyes were shining. Some things never changed.

Hell, it was impressive. She understood enough about physics to know that these giants should be impossible. Too much mass and weight for bodies that were scaled-up proportionally from the organic models. Either Leader X had brought the knowledge to Earth, or Galactor engineers had solved the problem of constructing Japanese anime mecha.

No 'skin' yet covered the mecha. The intricate arrays of cables, motors, actuators, servos and things she could not name wrapped the metal skeleton. As the cable-car slid past the head, someone evidently decided to test the eyes: they tracked the car's vertical movement.

The car shifted, transferring to a horizontal path.

"We're about to begin some small performance tests," the project manager said. "Basic movements."

Another shift, and the car descended.

The construction scaffolding opened up. The mecha raised its forearms, hands palm-out, then straightened its arms in front of it. _Damn, I'd surrender just seeing that._

Just before they reached its 'waist', the mecha took a step.

The car lurched, metal screamed, and the wall rushed at them. As the car slammed into the wall, she landed on one of the technicians. It swung away, and she grabbed the rail. "Lord Katse?"

He was braced in the corner, apparently unhurt. Then something else gave way, and the car crashed into the wall, dropped, and caught on a walkway. The door was now overhead.

When she was sure the car would not move any more, Geary got to her feet. _We can't stay in here._ She grabbed the keys from the dead technician and unlocked the car door. "My lord?"

A groan. The project manager, neck broken, pinned Katse. The other tech, pale, crawled over. After peering out for several seconds, he said, "All storage on this level. Green key. Lord Katse will be safe there."

He helped roll the dead man off. Geary didn't like Katse's clumsy, slow movements. "H – What? What happened?" he mumbled, voice lost in the sounds of destruction.

She had to look, and her jaw dropped.

The mecha had fallen, and flailed like a human with a seizure. Every movement struck something, causing further damage.

"Shit! Help me get him out of here. Lord Katse, stand up, please!" She took him by the arm.

After too many pleas and urgings, he got to his feet. She hoisted him through the door, then climbed after him.

"Go on!" the technician urged, trying to climb with a broken leg. "Get him someplace safe."

Berg Katse stood stupidly on the walkway, barely responding to the chaos around him. Both 'ears' of his mask were damaged, one so badly that she feared for him. "Come with me." She took his arm.

He resisted, more like a petulant child than an adult, digging in his heels and snapping, "No."

Metal crashed.

"Yes." _Forgive me_. She yanked him along to the nearest door.

Green key, green key, where was the fucking green key? She riffled through the ring, then forced herself to stop, take a breath, and start over. There.

She opened the door and dragged Lord Katse inside.

Not two seconds later, with a deafening shriek and a crash, wreckage blocked the doorway. Everything went black.

"Oh. Ow." Her ears hurt.

Using the limited night-vision provided by her mask's visual systems, she found the light-switch. So far, so good: they had lights.

Unlike in fiction, the store-room did not contain many usable items outside the eyewash station and first-aid kit. Boxes of actuators and associated parts made up the bulk. Coils of tubing.

"What happened?" Still dopey.

"I think the mecha collapsed." She made him sit on a stack of boxes.

"Collapsed."

"Yes."

"How?"

"I don't know. I didn't see that part." She put her hands on his shoulders. "My lord, look at me."

"What?"

"You're hurt. I think you hit your head when the cable-car was knocked loose."

"Cable-car. Damaged?"

"Destroyed, now. We got out in time." _Concussion. Must be._

"The mecha collapsed, and wrecked the cable-car. You think I hit my head. It hurts."

_Well, parts of his head still work._ "Yes, sir. I want to make sure you aren't hurt badly before I call this in."

"Of course."

_He'll probably fight me on the mask._ She unfastened his cape and set it aside. _He barely removes it in_ my _presence._ "I have to do this, sir."

He grabbed her hands. "No."

"Sir, please let go. Let go." _You're breaking my hands._

When he released her, she removed her mask. "Think. It's me. Sergeant Geary. Focus, sir. I know what you look like. It's okay for me to see your face."

Outside, the noise stopped. _Thank you._

He didn't stop her, this time.

Pupils were even, to her relief. He winced when she found the injury. No bleeding that she could detect. "Do you hurt anywhere else?"

"Ribs."

When the project manager fell on him, probably. She felt his ribs gently, willing herself to have the usual forbidden thoughts about him, anything to keep from imagining the worst. No signs of broken ribs, or of any abdominal bleeding.

_I should radio for help._ Nobody knew where they were, and Lord Katse needed proper medical care.

She examined the transceiver in her mask. No apparent damage. When she turned it on, the menu appeared in her visual field.

Lots of noise on the base frequencies. She switched to the red bands, permitted only when Lord Katse was injured or in danger. (After the attempt on his life, she had suggested this. She was still surprised anyone had listened.)

After that report, she checked the first aid kit for pain-killers and a cold-pack.

She glanced at him, then away. Looked back at him.

His face, in profile, had changed. Softer lines of jaw, mouth, and nose, a perfect image of Maddox. No Adam's apple.

She had felt lean, hard muscle on his chest. She _saw_ unmistakable breasts. Even his arms and shoulders looked different.

_No. Wait. What's happening?_

Then, as she watched, Maddox's face hardened to Berg Katse's, the Adam's apple reappeared, and the breasts vanished.

_Screw the painkillers. I'm in bad shape._

_No, I'm not._

Lord Katse's incredible talent with disguise. A man and a woman who could be twins, but were never actually seen together. Mutated humans.

_Oh, hell, oh shit, I called for help. I'll bet Leader X is the only other being who knows of this the damn bird-head knows_ everything _and people will_ freak _if they find out._

_Does he have a physician? Surely, he must, but I'll bet he's at CK._

_He keeps his secrets more tightly than a bank keeps money, and he did_ that _in front of me. What if he does it again?_

'I heal quickly,' he'd told her after the Aegean firefight. No wonder.

_God, my lord, my cat, what happened?_

_Nobody else will know, my lord. Not from me. Not if I have to kill everyone here._

She found the pain-reliever. Pill form. No cups. She hated swallowing pills dry.

Still grimacing, she gave him a packet. "For your head, sir."

"Thank you, Sergeant." He still seemed dazed.

_I'll bet that lump is gone. Or almost gone._ The concussion remained, it seemed. _The body changes. Apparently, not the brain. Or not that much._ Not in any way that she could observe.

She sat. Waited. Tried not to think. If she thought about what she'd seen, he would know she had seen the change. He was confused, so it would take time for him to put it together, but eventually he would understand.

He'd held a knife to her throat over their friendship as children. What mercy could she expect over this?

"No breath of air to break the wave

"That rolls below the Athenian's grave,

"That tomb which, gleaming o'er the cliff,

"First greets the homeward-veering skiff,

"High o'er the land he saved in vain:

"When shall such hero live again?"

Alarmed, she rose and went to him.

He leaned against the stack behind him, not looking at anything in particular. As he continued speaking, she recognized the rhythms of Nineteenth Century poetry, either English or Amerisian.

His mind still worked. She resumed her seat.

***** ***** *****

Two hours later, the leader of the rescue called. "Sergeant Geary? This is Hardison, on the rescue team. We can't raise Lord Katse."

"His radio was damaged. He's alive." _And currently reciting the poems of Lewis Carroll._

"Thank God. We have a trace on your signal. Oh, that's a lot of wreckage." He shared the image. "I estimate another hour."

"Thank you, Hardison."

Another call, this time on the red band. Lord Katse's personal physician was en route from Cross Karakoram, and would arrive in a little over an hour. _Good. Just keep the others away until then. Just in case he forgets._

"What's the word?" Katse asked.

"They should have us out in another hour, and your personal doctor is on his way." She handed over his mask and cloak.

***** ***** *****

Hardison had overestimated, but not deliberately. The technicians actually clearing the doorway found the two chunks of gantry holding up the mass of twisted metal. Within minutes, their mechas had cut and removed the supports, and the pile fell apart.

Using possible injuries as justification, Geary prevented anyone else touching Lord Katse. She helped him into the hovering mecha and stayed beside him as the operator piloted them out of the construction bay. The giant mecha, now lifeless, lay on the floor.

At the medical unit, she refused to leave his side, not even for herself. Katse refused medical help, and the doctors were obliged to stay away.

_I should just tell him I saw him transform. I'm as good as saying that right now._

"Go," he urged.

"I'm fine. A few bruises. I don't want to leave you until your doctor gets here."

He tensed. "You said it was an accident."

"It was, near as I can tell. I'm worried about you, sir."

He lightly took her hand. "Don't be. I feel better."

_You took my hand. You don't feel better: you feel giddy._ Or something. Maybe no more than relief at being out of there. Or one of his lesser manipulations.

A pale, shaking nurse entered. "Um, Lord Katse, your physician is here."

Behind her loomed one of the strange humanoid beings Geary saw gliding through Cross Karakoram. She cringed to one side, and the physician entered the room.

"You can go," Katse said. "I'm in safe hands."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"That means you go to our quarters afterwards and get some rest."

***** ***** *****

Their quarters could almost have been designed for them. An anteroom which probably saw more use as an office than as a guard's bedroom, the main sitting room/office, then a real bedroom and master bath. When the base captain heard the request for a bed for the anteroom, he had not been insulted. D'Arman's treachery was still fresh in people's minds.

She paced the tiny room.

Maybe he had not noticed. Bullshit. He saw _everything._

Would he think the concussion had addled his mind, and dismiss it? _Were I him, I would not take that chance._

She had already put her unloaded sidearm out of reach, and removed the other concealed weapons she carried. Whatever Lord Katse decided, she would not fight his decision.

On the other hand, he knew that she was loyal. He could easily do nothing, merely walk in and tell her to pack for the trip back home.

The day wore on. At least a dozen times, she thought about calling him. Had he been hurt worse than she knew? Head injuries could be tricky. Some could kill days later. What seemed minor could turn out to be crippling. _They'll call me if it's worse._

Evening, and no word. Was she cut out of the loop? Had she been deemed a liability? Would she even survive the night?

_Act like it's just another night. Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow._

***** ***** *****

She awoke without giving any sign. There was someone beside her bed. Lord Katse? Wait a bit.

The intruder sat on the side of her bed and leaned over her, resting his weight on one arm to her right. Before she could move, a familiar hand clamped on her throat, and Lord Katse whispered in her ear: "You know my greatest secret."

As before, she didn't twitch a muscle.

His lips were so close to her ear she could almost feel them as he spoke: "Who am I?"

"Lord Berg Katse, right arm and voice of Leader X." What game was he playing? "Lord of Galactor." Fear, devotion, and desire shortened her breath and sent her heart hammering.

"Are you certain?" He ran his thumb over her lips as his hand slid around to the back of her neck. She felt the thumb press her larynx.

"I am." _I am yours to do with as you please. I serve Galactor, and you. I am nothing without Galactor._

She could barely make out his face in the darkness, not that she could have read his expression, mask or no.

"You are who you are," she whispered. "My lord and leader, who I serve without reservation."

He held her life in his hands. He could take it any time. He could take her.

"Berg Katse, Lord of Galactor." It wasn't _what_ he was that was important: it was _who_ he was.

His lips traced the line of her jaw and down her throat. "Good answer." He pulled away and sat up, drawing her with him. "More truth."

She wanted to embrace him, to tell him everything in her heart. Ridiculous.

He released her and stood, a shadow in the shadows. "Good night, Sergeant," he said.

"Good night, my lord." _My cat, my love_.

He was gone.

She lay back on the bed, conscious of the increased responsibility she bore for his safety.

* * *

_[Author's note: The poem Berg Katse begins reciting is 'The Giaour' by Lord Byron. There's a lot more to it.]_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_I'm still alive._ On some level, she had not expected it. She got up, dressed, and entered the sitting room.

Lord Katse, looking as if it were any other morning, sat on the couch. His doctor must have brought a new uniform: his mask was in one piece. "Good morning, Sergeant."

"Good morning, sir. How are you?"

"I've been ordered to take it easy for a while. We're returning home today." He smiled thinly. "I listen to this doctor."

"Yes, sir." A million questions clamored in her head.

"Thank you."

"Sir." She went to pack.

***** ***** *****

Geary scowled at the route on the rail-car's monitor screen. "Another long trip, sir. Detours everywhere."

Lord Katse sat in one of the chairs. "This does not meet my definition of taking it easy. How long?"

"Estimates of two-and-a-half or three days."

"At least I have excellent company."

"Thank you, sir." Now, if she could just keep her questions to herself….

"You can ask."

"I don't know how. I don't want to sound --- nasty. Voyeuristic." Because questions could so easily veer into that territory, without conscious intent.

"Then I'll tell you. Now that you've seen me change, you should know more about it.

"I was born that way. My parents produced a daughter. I obviously don't remember the first few times I changed, but based on later years, I must have changed sex on them a year later. My childhood was spent alternating between the sexes.

"My parents kept me out of pre-school, and you can guess why they never chose home-schooling. They would have had to explain why, and they were too afraid and humiliated to do so. Whenever my male persona needed medical or dental care, they took me to people who could do the job and never asked questions.

"The change used to take several days, and was more annoying than painful. Every year, it took less time, and hurt more. Menstrual cramps have nothing on what I felt."

_Ooh._ She could empathize.

"Once I had to start school, my parents enrolled my female persona in St. Louis Academy." He chuckled. "That was not a good introduction to playground politics."

That explained the annual moves.

"I later learned that both my parents worked for companies controlled by Galactor. Even so, I'm still surprised that they were able to keep it a secret. Galactor controls only one canton, and we didn't live there.

"I see the question on your face. I didn't change with calendar precision. There were times, at the end of the school year, when I was the other sex."

_Wouldn't have noticed when we were young. Boys and girls look about the same, except for clothes and accessories._

Then: _Oh. My. God._ "Brad Dixon. What happened? You said he beat you up." Sickened, useless anger rose. If she could, she'd reach beyond the grave to thrash him.

"One of the few times I didn't get away. He and his friends were twelve, more stupid than sadistic."

"You killed them. That was no accident."

"They humiliated me. I spent the next year planning my revenge. My greatest concern was whether or not they told anyone. I'm sorry to say that I didn't really think about you until I returned. I don't know why."

"I really was a girl. No surprises." _Or you were too lost in your plan. Too humiliated. It doesn't matter how old your attackers are, or if they don't do more than grope._

"I also killed Hellmann. You and I were next on his list. He would have continued with his senseless, vulgar violence."

"Puberty must have been hell."

"Galactor recruited me after I murdered Hellmann. They'd been watching me for years, ever since Leader X found out about me.

"A specially-chosen team of biologists studied my changes. They devised a drug regimen that let me complete a school year as one sex or the other.

"You saw me as a male. I had all the male responses. When I was female, I had all the female responses. Yes, all the parts work."

_Not going there not going there._

"Once _that_ was over, I learned to _will_ the changes and dampen the pain. I discovered that I could change my appearance, within limits. I can alter my height six inches either way, and change my eye color. I also became good at using wigs and makeup."

Thinking back on previous disguises, she asked, "Could you imitate, oh, Ranjit?"

"No. He's too short, too dark, and his head and face are too round. There's only so much I can do with this jaw."

_And a beautiful jaw it is._

"I also learned that I could use this to heal minor injuries. I used it after the firefight. I didn't trust the base doctor at that time."

"Why are you female for the Devilstars? That 'harem' crack?"

"They were my first command, as Maddox. Leader X's idea.

"I keep Maddox because I saw the Devilstar's reactions to me. She is a useful buffer, and doesn't allow the usual female game-playing. When I order a kill, I want their minds on _that_. Not on me; not on petty squabbles."

_He uses the third person when referring to his female self. That way, he doesn't forget._

"Zaida and Maddox are not a couple. The hope of that keeps the lieutenant at her best."

"Aren't there rules against that?" There were in conventional military forces.

"Be discreet, leave the relationship issues at home, and there's no problem. It doesn't happen that much."

"How long did it take you to bend on _that?_"

"That was already understood when I put in place."

Not that _she_ had any hope of being with him. That was in the past. He belonged to Galactor.

"If you can be either sex, why not female?"

"You know why. No matter how much things have changed, this is still a largely-patriarchal world. _Lord_ Katse plays better than Lady Katse."

Too damn true. An incompetent man could still catch breaks a competent woman is never offered, even in Galactor. Her own authority relied as much on Lord Katse as on her rank.

He had not told her everything, but he had told her enough. No wonder he had never talked about his family or called to her when she saw him with them. It explained the strange way they looked at her.

Maybe it also explained why her classmates avoided him. Had they picked up on his difference? Or was it one of those schoolyard mysteries that would never be solved?

Had he been born either male or female, they would never have met. He hadn't said so, but his parents probably moved after the first few sex changes. No awkward questions from friends to answer.

What about his grandparents?

"I never knew my grandparents. They died of various causes. My parents never told me how they kept them away."

"I'm sure there were some buttons they could push." _He reads us like picture books. I bet we could have a whole conversation without me saying a word._

"No doubt."

_No idea which question he answered right then._

"When you changed," she said, "I almost panicked. But, whichever face you wore, the person in front of me was Berg Katse, and it was my duty to help and protect you. I knew you might kill me over your secret. That was your choice. My choice is always to do what I can for you, because it's my duty and because I'm a fool in love." Her hands trembled with the effort of not touching him. "I would have killed anyone who touched you to protect that secret, even the base captain. I _will_ kill to protect you, if that's what it takes."

He ran his fingers from her masked temple down her cheek to her chin. "I know that, my loyal fool," he whispered. "You hide it well, but you're still afraid of what you saw. In time, you won't be so afraid."

Afraid? Yes, she was afraid. Irrational to be afraid. How could _this_ disturb her and not a mutant man-fish? She knew the answer: she thought she knew him.

The puzzle box contained a puzzle box.

***** ***** *****

He could not tell her everything. Not yet, if ever. It had been years before Leader X had deemed him worthy to lead Galactor. More than a title and responsibility came with his elevation. His true origin was the _least_ of the secrets vouchsafed him by the true ruler of Galactor.

When she had been assigned to his staff, he had checked her record. Leader X was unknowable, a true alien being. Manipulating every detail of an underling's life was not beyond its capabilities.

Nothing suspicious. A parental divorce, no custody battle, and a mother wanting a new start. No Galactor involvement.

The job-crunch that had derailed Helen's (_no: Geary, remember that, you idiot!_) career had its origins in an economic hiccup whose nature was impossible to deliberately cause. Thousands had been caught in it. Thousands of potential recruits.

No: Helen (_Geary!_) had come to Galactor the same way others had come. It was a coincidence that she had known him so long ago.

Unless Leader X had unguessed powers, there was no way it could know that she would be so devoted to him. _I didn't expect it. I thought she would have found another._ Someone who could give her a proper life. Like Rico Lanzellotti.

Throbbing in his temples. A headache, one of the leftovers from yesterday's accident.

"Sergeant."

"Yes, sir?"

"If you need me, I'll be in the back."

A flash of worry. "Yes, sir."

The sleeping quarters weren't designed for true comfort. When originally built, the subterranean rail system was intended to rival the 'bullet trains' on the surface. The increasing detours made that a vain hope. One could catch a nap on the bunks, but a full eight hours could leave the sleeper worse off than no sleep at all.

After taking two aspirin and shaking out his hair, he stared at the bottom of the top bunk.

It felt good to have someone to talk to. Someone trustworthy.

He held up one hand, imagining the Earth cradled in it. The weight was bearable.

***** ***** *****

_St. Louis Academy, huh? Bet his female self made top marks._ No wonder Sean had played dumb. Awards in two schools, under two names, would have attracted unwanted attention. Only the legal female persona could shine.

Wasn't there something else about the school? Oh, yes. A professor who was over-fond (to use a euphemism) of some of the female students. Overdosed on sleeping pills _and_ cut his wrists after the first accusations went public. _I wonder if_ she _had anything to do with that?_

The many mysteries of their past friendship came clear to her. Not just the obvious ones, but things she had sensed. The barrier between them. His sympathy as she dealt with her own puberty. Their pretense of dating (which had only made him more interesting to her female classmates).

Those, and other, peculiarities had seduced her as no conventional ploy ever could.

***** ***** *****

Whenever he thought about the conversation later, part of him wondered why he had not worn his mask and cape back into the main compartment. Had he meant to invite her confidences? The logical explanation, that he didn't want another headache, seemed inadequate.

She also wasn't wearing her mask, nor paying attention to the old movie on the monitor. He could not read the mix of emotions on her face, yet he knew what she wanted. _I shared my secrets. Now she will share hers._ "You don't have to tell me anything." Meaning it.

"I have to tell someone. It's stupid, it's pathetic, and I've held onto it for years."

He draped his cape over the back of a chair.

"You know my life story, more or less. After I graduated with that criminal justice degree, I found myself one more among thousands of other graduates looking for work.

"I wasn't getting along with my mother, so I didn't return to her. I found a couple of jobs that let me pay the rent without taking off my clothes. Office jobs. One with a pharmaceutical company, the other with a real estate firm. They were too routine for a decent salary or full-time employment, but too unique for call-centers or computers. And I kept looking for a real job, in my chosen field.

"There was a supervisor in the pharmaceutical company. He was polite to me. He wasn't over-interested or inappropriate. No warning signs at all.

"I'm a two-drink person. After that, it's non-alcoholic. I saw enough drunken stupidity in high school and university to never think booze equals fun.

"I was at a low-key place one Friday night. Not a pick-up joint, but the sort of place that also serves real food."

"You never were a party person. You didn't have to be." She had to hear that truth. She was social, gregarious, or had been.

"The supervisor was there, and asked to sit at my table. I said yes, and we traded small talk.

"My next memory is waking up Saturday in my apartment. I was dressed, but I was certain that something was wrong. But I couldn't find the words for it. Even to me, every attempt to describe it made me sound like a nervous Nellie who sees wickedness everywhere.

"I made the mistake of not even going to a doctor. If I had, some things would have turned out differently. I think my inability to adequately describe my feelings made me second-guess myself.

"Instead, I went to work on Monday as if nothing had happened. The supervisor never batted an eye."

_What is his name? Who dared do this to you?_ He gave no outward sign of the cold anger building in him.

"A few weeks later, they fired me. I don't know if he had anything to do with it, but it effectively discredited me. If I ever did make a complaint, they could say I was angry about being fired.

"I missed my period. So I bought one of those home pregnancy tests, and confirmed the awful news with a visit to a gynecologist.

"I knew how it would go. I didn't remember a thing. No injuries, no damage to my clothing, nothing to show that I had resisted an attack, or that there had been one. Any witnesses would probably remember me walking out under my own steam." She put her arms around herself.

"I had found another job, so I still had two jobs to juggle, and a baby on the way.

"After an uneventful pregnancy, I gave birth. No problems with that, either.

"Some women can fall in love with Rosemary's Baby. I could barely look at my daughter.

"Stupid. Pathetic. She was the innocent, and I could not love or like her.

"I could have given her up, but I didn't want to punish her for his sins. Who knew, maybe I would come to love and care about her.

"That's where everything stood when the Galactor recruiter came around. Two jobs, a two-year-old I regretted keeping, and no money for a lawyer who could help me."

Were he not Lord of Galactor, he would hold her.

"I earned that degree to help people like you and Mailer. I joined Galactor to make a world where good people aren't held hostage to misplaced sensitivity and compassion, where people don't have to choose between dignity and survival. Where the powerless don't have to fear the powerful."

"No revenge?"

"That's not Galactor's purpose." She smiled. "In a way, I have revenge. I serve the Lord of Galactor, the future ruler of the world. All he has is his job." No smile. "But I always wonder who else he's raped. How many other women have awakened with no memory of what happened, perhaps not even suspecting that anything happened? Is he alone, or does he have buddies?"

Drugs. That bastard had drugged her.

"He slipped me something. There are drugs out there that can be given someone, and they'll seem perfectly normal to a witness, but not remember anything. Can't buy them over the counter, but they can be purchased."

Or obtained through job contacts?

"Taking him out would protect other women, if he acted alone. It's not knowing that grates.

"Most rape victims remember too much. They heard the bastards speak, felt their hands, felt them inside --- and some never recover. Others do, and it's because they had something to fight against. I don't remember anything, so I've simply muddled through. I think I've come out the other side, but I'm not sure."

The right words in the right ears. Galactor had agents in most major cities, and some of those were in the police forces. Find this man. Find his victims. Let them know that someone really does care what happens to them. Recruit them.

"There are therapists in Galactor. I _had_ to suffer alone. You don't."

"I didn't let it turn me into a recluse. My daughter wasn't an excuse to hide out at home, nor did I leave her with sitters and neighbors after work to get away from her. I may not be okay, but I'm not broken."

She would not have lasted six weeks in her training if she were broken. "I know that. I wanted to help."

"And I thank you. I think, maybe I just needed to tell someone. Someone who would listen, and not try to analyze me into the psychiatric trend this year, or help me 'get in touch with my feelings', as if I didn't already know them."

She stood, put her hand on his chest. He wanted to put his hand over it. "Thank you again, sir. Now, I think it's time for me to get some rest."

"You're welcome."

_I'll find him. And let her decide what she wants to do with him._


End file.
